


Red Water

by Hipster_life231



Series: Family Healing [1]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Minor Character Death, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 13:48:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16724571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hipster_life231/pseuds/Hipster_life231
Summary: PLEASE READ: (Does talk abt blood and self harm. There is also a death (kinda minor). If that triggering please be careful.)Peter wishes he could stop. It’s just so addicting, is the thing. He watches the water turn red with wide eyes. A drop for everyone he’s lost or let down. A line for the building debris that seems to constantly dig into his back. He’s so overwhelmed after May’s sudden death and his nightmares that seem to seep into his waking moments. The scars are his escape. It helps that they’re easy to hide. The team doesn’t know, and he’ll keep it that way.ORDaredevil is the towers newest guest and he smells blood. So much blood.(This had one plot but I changed it a quarter way thru bc I wanted to)----This took me, like, an hour and I kinda like it. This prompt has been bouncing around in my head for a while now.





	Red Water

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing this and its literally two in the morning. I have a bunch of written prompts and this was one of them. If this gets enough feedback maybe I'll make a series based on this story?? Idk we'll see.

If you had told Peter a few years ago, heck, a few months ago, that he would become indifferent to being an avenger, he would have thought you were insane. Ever since he was a child he’d wanted to be a part of the allusive avengers family. He dreamed of sparing with Captain America and talking science with Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner. He knew though, as a scrawny, uninteresting, fifteen year old, that would never happen.

 

Then he was bitten by a radioactive spider and everything changed.

 

\------

 

When Peter first met Tony Stark, he was told that he had to go to Germany. He did his best not to agree too fast or seem too excited. He used the flimsy excuse of homework so as not to seem too eager to fight alongside his childhood hero. Tony Stark saw right through him but he was too excited about his first mission to really care.

 

\------

 

After sitting down and reading the accords he told Tony that they sucked and that he understood why team Cap did what they did. It didn’t mean that he had completely forgiven the star spangled hero for the ptsd that he’d left his mentor to handle, but he understood his side. 

 

It took a few months but the accords were demolished and the rogue avengers were pardoned. Tony had been an absolute ball of anxiety when he found out they were coming back to the tower, but he later told Peter that he’d talked to the Captain and things were looking good. 

 

Peter wondered what it would be like to meet his heroes out of his suit. He didn’t tell Tony how anxious he was, though.

 

Besides, Peter was confident that they would like him and maybe even, by the grace of the gods, think of him as a friend,

 

He was ignorant as to how their appearance would have such an impact on his life.

 

\------

 

“You’re going to put a hole in the floor if you keep tapping your foot like that,” Tony said offhandedly. He wasn’t actually bothered by it, he just hoped it would break the tension. In reality, Peter went from tapping his foot on the floor to tapping his fingers on his thigh.

 

“Sorry Mr. Stark, just a bit nervous is all.” Nervous was an understatement. A huge one, at that. Peter felt as though his heart was going to jackhammer out of his chest and across the room at the rate it was going. His mind was whirling a mile a minute with nerves and he wished he had something he could fiddle with.

 

When the elevator dinged with the arrival of his heroes he was sure he was going to throw up. The door slid open and there stood Captain America. He was out of suit in a t-shirt and sweats but Peter could feel the power radiating off of him, nonetheless. Tony stood to greet him with the quick shake of a hand before he moved on to the others.

 

Natasha Romanov looked deadly as ever with short, blonde hair and sharp features. Her eyes raked over Peter in disinterest before moving on to Stark. Her hands were shoved casually in her hoodie and Peter saw the slight tapping of her booted foot. 

 

The man beside her had dark skin and warm brown eyes. His smile was lighthearted as he gave Tony’s hand a shake before turning to poke at Steve’s side. The Captain smacked his hand away and murmured a soft, “Sam, stop.” So the Falcon’s name was Sam. Nice. It suited him.

Tony continued to move down the line until Steve, Natasha, Sam, Clint, and Wanda were all seated in office chairs. In the back of his mind, Peter was laughing at the way Sam and Clint spun their chairs around and seemed to have a contest of how many things they could chuck at each other before Steve noticed. He had, he’d, evidently, decided not to comment on it in lieu of sending Peter a calculating gaze.

 

“Who’s the kid, Tony?” And,  _ ouch _ . That’s not what he expected. Steve’s voice was as cold as ice,  _ see what I did there _ , and his eyes were reproachful. Peter shivered and scratched his wrist thoughtlessly. 

 

“I’m Spider-Man,” Peter murmured and he flinched when his voice cracked. Well, there goes his dignity. He watched as it dropped ninety stories before splatting onto the ground. It was a surprisingly small splat. Huh.

 

A couple of the rogues laughed. When he didn’t join they stared at him in awe. It wasn’t a good kind, though. It’s how you’d look at your dog the first time it rolled over. It made Peter uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat and looked away.

 

“You brought a kid into battle,” Steve’s eyes narrowed and Peter sunk down in his seat. “What are you, seventeen?” 

 

“Fifteen,” Peter squeaked in surprise when that brought on another couple shouts of surprise. Great. Fucking great. His heroes thought he was a frail, hopeless child. Wonderful.

 

Peter snuck out of the room, Steve and Tony’s bickering fading into the background. 

 

\------

 

It had been four months since the rogue avengers were back and, honestly, Peter kinda wished they weren’t. The only one he liked was Natasha because she liked to make him food and teach him fight moves. She understood that he was small, but also that he was insanely strong. She was also teaching him russian.

 

Peter was slowly going insane. He hadn’t told anyone, but May was sick. Like, insanely sick. 

 

She was diagnosed with cancer on his sixteenth birthday and suddenly his life came to a standstill. She held him and they both cried over an assortment of chinese takeout boxes. That night they watched old disney movies till four in the morning and he spent the next day with her instead of going to school.

 

He didn’t tell her but his nightmares had come back in full force. He dreamed of being trapped under a pile of rubble. Then the rubble would turn to people and they all seemed to say the same thing. That he’d killed them. One of the most prominent voices belonged to Uncle Ben.

 

Instead of sleeping he stayed up working out different equations and doing copious amounts of research. He had three notebooks full of notes and facts. Some equations were bunched up on napkins or scrawled hastily on his arms. He didn’t sleep between research, school, and Spider-Man.

 

When the team asked him about the bags under his eyes he told them he’d been exerting himself as Spider-Man a bit too much, but he was okay. They believed him. They didn’t have time to care about the scrawny teenager. It’s not like he’s an actual avenger, anyway. 

 

Peter tells himself these things late at night when he’s especially close to the edge. 

 

One night, as he listens to May’s even breathing as she sleeps soundly in her bedroom and the cool bathroom tiles burns his skin he wonders who he’s kidding. He’s still a petulant child with issues. Every parental figure he’s had has died except for Aunt May and, soon, she’d be following the others.

 

He watches as crimson begins to paint the bathroom tiles, painting the floor with his numbness, and he can only sigh.

 

Old habits die hard, he guesses. 

 

\------

 

When he silently watches May die in her hospital bed, sickly and oh so frail, he doesn’t tell anyone. He doesn’t know what he can do besides cry into her ice cold hand and wish the fucking machine would pick up again. He wants to imagine that May will open her eyes and press one of her soft hands against his cheek.

 

It doesn’t. She won't.

 

\------

 

He doesn’t know when it got this bad. Peter wishes he could stop. It’s  _ addicting  _ is the thing. He watches the water turn red with wide eyes. A drop for everyone he’s lost or let down. A line for the building debris that seems to constantly dig into his back. He’s so overwhelmed after May’s sudden death and his nightmares that seem to seep into his waking moments. The scars are his escape. It helps that they’re easy to hide. They always fade away after a few minutes. A new, clean, canvas to be ravished. The team doesn’t know, and he’ll keep it that way.

 

Sure, it’s probably risky, going so far while in the tower. But, he admonishes, it’s not like they’d give two fucks anyway. He was too late to save May. He was too lazy to save Ben. Everything seems to just come back to rest on his shoulders. This is his punishment. 

 

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, he’s still working on those equations, or it’s the fact that he just doesn’t care anymore, but his lines don’t heal as quickly. Usually, as soon as the blade leaves his skin, his cells are already stitching themselves together again. This time, however, his blood gushes into the sink and it’s more than he’s ever seen before.

 

It’s almost pretty.

 

One moment he’s standing, blade in hand, the next he’s on the floor with double vision and blood pumping from his arms. Maybe he went too deep. He doesn’t mind. He pictures May and Ben’s faces swimming just in front of him. He longs to reach out to them, but they seem just out of reach. He smells, rather than feels the salty tears run down his cheek.

 

His head rests against the floor and his eyes grow heavy. His limbs are like lead and his mind is a jumbled mess. If he focuses his hearing he can hear the jovial laughter of the avengers upstairs. 

 

What an ironic way to die, surrounded by a bunch of heroes. 

 

\------

 

Matt taps his finger against his thigh as the elevator makes its smooth assent. The music is low, but to his ears it’s a bit overwhelming. It’s a good thing he’s got fairly good control of his senses or he’d be a mess 24/7. If you asked Foggy he already was. 

 

His head suddenly perks up and his tapping stops. That smell. It’s a little overpowering but he does his best to ignore it. It could really be nothing, someone just getting a papercut on one of the lower levels. Nothing to worry about.

 

When he steps out of the elevator, he’s greeted with an excited laugh. It’s only somewhat gravely, yet still significantly young. Someone short, lean, but with a fair amount of muscle. Matt furrowed his eyebrows when his ears caught static. The man was wearing a hearing aid. 

 

“Look, I’m finally not the only disabled person in the room!” A few people hissed insults at him and by the resounding smack someone had probably hit him on the arm. 

 

“Sorry about Clint, Mr. Murdock. He’s a bit, eh, eccentric.” The next voice was strong, a hint of patient hospitality in the tone. They moved forward before placing a light hand on Matt’s shoulder and leading him forward. Matt guessed it was the great Captain.

 

“Hey!” The man-Clint squaked angrily. 

 

“It’s true bird-brain. Hello, Mr. Murdock, I’m Tony Stark. The grandmother leading you over is Steve. The idiot bird-guy is Clint. There’s a woman standing menacingly in the corner, that’s Natasha.” Matt laughed at the introductions and extended his hand. Tony gave it a firm shake. 

 

“Please, call me Matt. It’s a pleasure to meet you all. There’s just a few things we need to discuss before we,” Matt trailed off as the strong metallic smell hit him. It washed over him in waves and he nearly gagged. That much blood couldn’t possibly be a papercut. Someone must be in danger. 

 

“I’m so sorry if this is a weird question, but are any of you bleeding?” Matt paused, knowing that there would be a bit of shock at such an odd question.

 

“Nope, we’re all patched up; nothing’s out of place. Everything okay?” Steve’s voice was hesitant and surprised. A fresh wave rolled over Matt and his stomach gave a panicked jolt. “Matt, are you okay?”

 

“Is there anyone in the two floors above and below this one?” The smell was getting worse, more overpowering. Something wasn’t right.

 

“Yeah, this kid, Peter is here but-”

 

“Take me to him, please. I think he’s in trouble.”

 

There was a moment of silence and shock was, most likely, the only reason that Steve grabbed his arm and began to drag him from the kitchen. They stepped into the elevator and waited in a tense silence until it dinged and slid open. The smell was overwhelming, now.

 

This time, without a guide, Matt maneuvered his way around the room until he was faced with a door. He tried the knob but it was locked. He knocked, only for there to be no response. He began to bang his shoulder on the wood, ignoring the shocked protests from the avengers. He could deal with them later, right now this kid needed help.

 

When the door finally burst open, Steve hadn’t known what he’d expected but it wasn’t Peter, laying motionless on the bathroom floor, blood slowly spilling from his wrists. 

 

Without thinking he lurches forward and grabs the towels off of the rack. He can hear Tony frantically telling Jarvis to get medical as quick as possible but he focuses on pressing the cloths to Peter’s arms. 

 

“C’mon kid, wake up. You gotta wake up for us. C’mon kiddo.” Peter’s eyes open, confused and unfocused. His eyes find Steve’s but they don’t truly register what they’re saying.

 

“Wan’t...see...Aunt….May.” His words are only a whisper, but Steve gets them loud and clear. Where was the kids Aunt? Had something happened? Why hadn’t he said anything. His eyes rolled back but Steve tried to keep him awake until the medical team arrived. Peter would sometimes sigh or twitch in discomfort but he was otherwise unresponsive. 

 

The avengers felt an unyielding, tense, fear for their youngest recruit.

 

\------

 

Tony didn’t know what to think as he sat at the kid’s bedside. 

 

He knew that because he was Spider-Man there was always risk of major injury. There was a possibility that something would go wrong in the suit and the kid would need his help.

 

What scares Tony the most is that this happened outside of the suit. 

 

While Peter is in the hospital he finds out May gave him guardianship. He hadn’t even known that she was dead. The toll that must have taken on the kid, he thought. He knew how much Peter adored his Aunt. Despite all the raunchy joke he made, Tony admired May as she was a strong, single mother, who always put Peter before anything else.

 

Tony knew the two weren’t related by blood but they were family, and anyone who said otherwise would have to answer to him. 

 

It was as he sat in the plastic chain, listening to the constant beep of the heart monitor that Tony realized how neglectful he’d been. He admitted that as soon as the rogue avengers had been pardoned he’d kind of pushed the kid to the side. It had been completely unintentional but he blamed himself for it every day. 

 

When Peter woke up he was shocked to be surrounded by the avengers. Steve had smiled over his sketchbook and reached over to give him a reassuring pat. Hawkeye had given him a toy bow and arrow with suction cup ends to keep from getting bored. Natasha had kissed his forehead and told him in russian how terrified she was. Some of it he didn’t understand but he gave her a hug just the same.

 

“You know we have to talk about this, right?” Peter blushed under Tony’s gaze and sunk back into his pillows. “I’ll wait until you get settled into your room at the tower.”

 

Peter gawked and his eyes went impossibly wide. “I have a room at the tower?”

 

“You do now.”

 

Talking was uncomfortable and there were a lot of tears as Peter told them about May and Ben and his nightmares. When he showed Tony the work he’d been doing, the man got this spark in his eyes and said that he was getting his own place in the Science Bro Lab ™. When they told him he’d nearly passed out. 

 

\------

 

One year later it was Peter’s seventeenth birthday and he was smooshed on the couch between Tony and Natasha. The avengers were scattered on the floor and Clint and Sam were throwing bits of popcorn at each other. It reminded Peter of the first day they met. 

 

He watched his family joke around and poke fun at each other from his spot on the couch. He hopes things will stay that way. He hopes that, in the future, he’ll learn to fall in love with his new family.

They do. He does. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated ;)) Constructive criticism is always accepted.


End file.
